On Being Pure in Impure Places
by BeccaBreaksThings
Summary: A speculative Ron Weasley observes life in the Gryffindor Common Room prior to his nightly romp with Draco Malfoy. Semi-Dark!Ron, Traitor!Ron. RonxDraco slash, non-graphic, could be considered a bit of a crack fic.


Ron looked around the Gryffindor Common Room, nose upturned in disgust at the company he was forced to keep. Mudbloods mingling with the truly worthy, with the mixed-breeds the hat decided were 'courageous' and 'bold.' Ron disagreed heartily – the only courageous thing was his ability to put up with those vile creatures. Perhaps the worst of them was Granger.

Parading around like she belonged, doing secret favours for the more lax professors until they gave her grades enough she looked to excel in their classes. Hermione Granger was nothing but a vile, moronic fraud with a _crush _on him. He wasn't stupid – he'd seen the way she'd look at him when she thought he wasn't paying any attention. If only she knew.

A sly smirk twisted up the corners of his mouth as he watched the messy, dark hair of Harry Potter emerge from behind the portrait. Arrogance oozed from every pore as the boy swaggered forth to join Ron, his faux-friend. Malfoy would _love _to hear the latest piece of Potter nonsense. It's a wonder Ron hadn't been placed with the rest of the Slytherin students, his cunning kindred spirits. Together they would bring about the fall of that pompous git. He couldn't wait.

Draco, _his _Draco, would certainly wait for him. It was only a matter of time before the two of them joined the Dark Lord together and delved into a new, cruelly entertaining chapter of their lives. Of course he'd need to abandon his vile blood traitor's name, but Lucius had promised him a place as one of the Malfoys the day Potter was no more.

Ron brushed those thoughts away before a lover's blush could colour his cheeks, reverting his attention to the waiting Potter – he seemed to be babbling about some punishment from dear Professor Snape. Pity.

"Look at my hands," Harry whined, holding them palm-up in Ron's face. Whenever it was just the two of them, that pathetic excuse of a wizard didn't even try to play brave and bold like he did with the others – even for a house as dismal as Gryffindor, he was a disappointment. Ron couldn't help but wonder if things would have been different had the boy joined the rest of those useless Hufflepuffs.

Ron pretended to look aghast, his mouth hanging slack in the way the traitor Longbottom's usually did – insanity and uselessness was probably in the boy's blood, anyway. All the better with those parents of his off the streets.

Shaking his head before he could amuse himself too much with the thought of Frank and Alice's demise, Ron focused back on the blur of Harry's face as the Potter boy said, "An hour detention stretched into _three. _Cleaning _all _the cauldrons, _and _some of those old ingredients jars he keeps just for me."

"Three hours?" he repeated in that same, falsely stupid voice he forced himself to adopt to keep his cover. "And he made you clean all of it? Bloody hell, Harry."

Harry nodded, reaching up to nudge his glasses back into place on his nose. Ron wanted nothing more than to reach up, steal those wire-rimmed demons and use them to gouge an eye out. He fancied himself the left – there was a faint twinkle of impurity in it, something dire like muggle admiration.

"Maybe next time you shouldn't talk back," Hermione supplied helpfully from her place at Potter's elbow. She clung to the two of them like a germ at times, though Ron wasn't entirely surprised she had no other friends. The girl was lucky someone dumb as Potter was around for her entertainment.

"You'll only get yourself in more trouble, you know," she continued, endeavouring hard to push the words past those enormous teeth of hers. "Isn't that right, _Ronald?_"

Ron gritted his teeth and glared up at her for a fraction of a second before he forced a laugh and glanced at Harry. "He's a bloody git anyway." That, as he had hoped, launched Harry into a spiel of anti-Snape remarks, granting him just enough distraction to excuse himself to go to the prefect's superior bathroom – a genius ploy if ever there was one.

Slipping through portraits was easy work – especially when he had the advantage of the stolen Marauder's Map, which Ron used to determine that Draco was already waiting for him in one of the fourth floor's secret passageways. They negotiated their meeting places by owl each morning to keep up the rouse of hatred, with only a minimal few aware of Ron's secret involvement with the Slytherin boy. It was better that way – rumours spread fast through Hogwarts' halls, and Ron preferred to remain publicly 'aligned' with his blood traitor brothers and the Gryffindor mudbloods.

"Weasley?" Draco called just as Ron shoved the Map into his robes' pocket and propelled himself through a grumpy old wizard's portrait. "Is that you?"

Ron smirked and took three quick steps forward, coming to rest just short of Draco's back. "Would it be anyone else?"

"One of those lurking brothers of yours, maybe," Draco said, turning to face him. White-blonde hair slicked back to leave his felinely beautiful face unobstructed, those clever eyes locked straight on Ron's own.

They wasted no time in getting up close and personal with each other, Ron's lumbering arms grabbing Draco, hard, by the waist and tugging him close enough that their noses would almost touch. "I left them behind," Ron said, amused by the momentary lapse of cool from his Slytherin lover. "Had something much better to do."

"What could be better than _parading _with _Potter_?" Draco spat, intense dislike colouring his words.

"Taking him down," Ron muttered, breath stirring a few loose hairs by Draco's ear. The statement had the desired effect – they both were brought closer by a joint dislike of the Potter boy and all things Gryffindor. It always surprised him what a turn on those vulgar little traitors could be, but he'd take it right up until they could each be annihilated.

Until then, Ronald Weasley would continue to plot, and Draco Malfoy would continue to _admire _him in everyway. They were a dream team.


End file.
